


Lovingly Insulting

by CaelistisRydraline



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humour, Languages, M/M, Romance, Welsh Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 11:50:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaelistisRydraline/pseuds/CaelistisRydraline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hermione manages to get Harry to learn another language with her, the only perk he sees is that he can at least insult Malfoy in front of some professors. But some other things are more easily said when no one else can understand you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Y Cyntaf - The First

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Lovingly Insulting](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9259442) by [clarocque](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarocque/pseuds/clarocque)



**Y Cyntaf. The First.**

 

"Aw, come on, 'Mione!" Harry moaned, looking at the three thick books before him.

Hermione looked down at them, then back to her friend. "What?" she demanded.

"I said I'd help you _review_ , and _you_ said _one_ language!"

"But I need someone to practice with!"

"What about someone in your classes?"

The girl glanced away somewhat sheepishly. "They're not for classes, exactly," she said before turning back to him, excitement filling her eyes. "I need to learn them so that I can get more out of the cultures when I visit these places! They've got _incredibly_ important historical sites to the Wizarding world, Harry!"

" 'Mione, I'm already behind in schoolwork, you know that! Isn't there _someone_ who can do this with you?" he asked desperately, looking around their nearly empty common room.

"Who? Ron? He still has to master the _English_ language. It's not like any of his brothers could help, either. And I don't think Neville could help even if he wanted to." Hermione stared him down, hands on her hips.

Harry found himself searching the common room again, feeling cornered. "Ginny? Or Luna?" he suggested weakly. Hermione raised an eyebrow, amused now.

"Even _you_ can tell you're not getting out of this. Luna? _Really_ , Harry?" Harry sighed, looking back at the books. Of course she had chosen now to do this, when he had just gotten in from Quidditch and was still completely exhausted.

"I'm not doing anything with another alphabet," he warned her, eyeing the title of the thickest volume. The blue leather spine was covered in golden symbols that _vaguely_ resembled the letters he was used to. Hermione's face fell a little, but she perked up again when she realized that that meant a 'go' for the other two.

"Thank you, Harry!" she exclaimed, crushing him in an unexpected hug. "It'll be fun, I promise!" Harry just groaned as she gathered her books and bounded up the stairs to her dorm.

oOo

Harry sat on a desk in an empty classroom, Hermione walking among the tables around him as she tried to recite the forms of the verb 'bod'. She had informed him at breakfast that they would be starting with Welsh, and moving on to Icelandic once they had mastered it. Privately, Harry doubted if she would ever get to the second language if she insisted he was learning them along with her.

As Hermione continued through her already memorized list, Harry's gaze drifted out of focus. He had a DADA essay to finish…that really needed to be done: he had to hand it in tomorrow. He really ought to put some effort into this one, too. Snape was a harsh grader in general, and his essays were often 'Poor' at best. And of course, Snape _always_ had to sweep around the room while he handed them back, implying oh so obviously as to who had gotten the terrible grades he was talking about. And then Malfoy would look over at him with that damn smirk on his face, his perfect blonde hair falling into his silver eyes –

"Harry!" Hermione's irritated voice snapped him back into the present.

"Hm?"

The witch frowned at him. "Your turn…" she said pointedly. Harry grimaced.

"Er, right. 'I am'," he glanced down at the paper beside him. "Ree-do ee."

"No, no, no," Hermione interrupted, almost before he had finished. "It's _ruh_ -do. Remember? The first 'y' is obscure. So it's 'uh', not 'ee'."

Harry rolled his eyes. "All right, all right. Rydw i. 'You are', er, rue-it tea."

"Rwyt ti," she repeated. "Don't exaggerate the vowel sounds so much. And say it all together, don't chop it up into pieces."

" 'He is', er-" when he went to look at his paper again, Hermione snatched it away.

"You're _supposed_ to be memorizing this with me," she said accusingly, taking a few steps away to hide the parchment.

"'Mione!" he complained, jumping down from the desk. "I can't memorize them if I don't get to see them in the first place."

"Well you should have been reading this over when I gave it to you," the witch pointed out stubbornly. Harry held his hand out for the parchment, but she shook her head.

"You're the one who wants me to do this with you," he countered.

"Not interrupting anything, am I?" the pair looked over to where Malfoy was leaning against the doorframe, his prefect's badge gleaming on his chest.

"What do you want?" Harry asked, keeping his eyes on the silver pair staring at him. Malfoy smirked.

"Nothing, nothing. Just checking the empty classes, is all. I guess I'll be off, then. Don't want to disturb the lovebirds in here," he said, not moving.

"What? We're not- I mean, I wouldn't – Hermione and I aren't – I'm not-" Harry tried to explain in a hurry. He wasn't trying to assure _Malfoy_ of anything. He was just trying to stop any rumors that the blonde wouldn't hesitate to start.

"Whatever you say, Potter," the Slytherin slipped out of the room, chuckling.

"Bechgyn dwp," Hermione scoffed.

"Ooh, the mudblood's insulting me in another language!" Malfoy called from the hallway, the amusement clear in his voice.

Harry looked at her curiously. "What did you say?" She rolled her eyes.

"Bechgyn dwp. Stupid boys." When she saw the interest in his eyes, the witch sighed. "I could have used this as incentive all along."

oOo

Hermione had refused to stop their 'lesson' until supper, and even then, Harry could see she was reluctant. He'd taken off before she could try to convince him to stay.

Harry sank into his seat beside Ron, who had already loaded his plate, and poured himself some pumpkin juice.

"Where you been, mate?" the redhead asked around a – surprisingly - small mouthful of food. "I was down at Hagrid's before, thought you were gonna come with."

Harry sighed, taking a long drink out of his goblet. "Roeddwn yn dysgu Cymraeg," he said, refusing to admit that he felt slightly proud at the fact that he pronounced everything correctly. Ron looked at him blankly. "I was learning Welsh," he repeated. "With Hermione."

After staring at him for a few moments, Ron managed a 'why'.

"She asked me the day before yesterday if I'd help her review while she was learning another language. That was after _you_ got her all upset, so I couldn't exactly say no. Then yesterday she brings out these huge freakin' books, and I couldn't find a way to get out of it."

Ron looked slightly guilty for a moment, then brightened. "It's nearly Christmas, though! She can't _possibly_ make you do extra work over the holidays, even Hermione isn't that bad."


	2. Yr Ail - The Second

**Yr Ail. The Second.**

 

Harry sat in the Great Hall, positioned purposely between Ron and Hermione. He picked at his breakfast while Ron shovelled food into his mouth beside him, and tried not to angle himself away from the redhead. It wouldn't really do him any good to pick sides while they were on the outs with each other.

"Cheer up, mate!" Ron said suddenly. Harry glanced up at him, unsure where that had come from. "Only a day left! Then we can finally get out of here for a bit!"

"Mm," Harry said noncommittally, taking a bite of his eggs. He hadn't been entirely thrilled with the idea of going to the Weasleys' for the break, and Ron seemed to have just assumed he would be going. If it were Grimmauld place, Harry would have considered it, but…

The fact that Hermione was staying at Hogwarts over the break only made him more inclined to stay as well. If she had been going to the Burrow, then at least he would have had someone other than a Weasley to hang out with. He didn't mind the twins – in fact, he rather enjoyed their company – and Ginny, well, he still found it a bit awkward around her. But spending day in and day out with Ron was a bit too much.

"What's up, Harry? You seem really down," Ron observed. Harry managed not to roll his eyes at how long it had taken Ron to notice that he wasn't bouncing off the walls in excitement.

"I'm going to be staying here, Ron."

The redhead looked aghast. "But – You're not – Why?"

"I'm not about to leave Hermione on her own all Christmas, Ron."

"What, she's not going over to _Bulgaria_ or something with _Krum_?" Ron sneered.

Harry bit back an icy retort, saying curtly "No, she's not."

OoO  
Ron gave Harry the cold shoulder the rest of the day, though it wasn't something Harry was really bothered about. He had realized earlier that year that he preferred spending time with Hermione, if only because the two of them managed to have relatively intelligent conversations.

He wasn't sure what had really made him realize that his schoolwork was _actually_ important. The combination of the havoc Umbridge had brought on the school the previous year and Sirius' death seemed a likely culprit, though. Hermione seemed to feel that he had matured, though to Harry it just seemed like he had finally opened his eyes.

By the time that evening rolled around, Harry really just wanted to get away from everyone. Nearly the entire school was buzzing in excitement for the Christmas break, and the constant chatter was getting irritating. Being in the Gryffindor common room was almost worse: the small space seemed to increase the volume of everyone's already loud voices. To top it off, Ron and Lavender were directly across the room from him, and to say they were closely entwined on their chair would be putting it mildly.

Harry gave no resistance when Hermione asked him to work on Welsh that night. It wasn't that he really cared that much about people kissing in public, but the way Ron and Lavender went about it made him wish he were in Potions.

The two returned to their usual practice room. So far, none of the teachers had come across the two of them, and the only prefects who had noticed them hadn't had much issue when they saw who it was. Harry wasn't sure if it was that they didn't look like they were a couple, or if was just the fact that Hermione was there. Either way, he was glad they hadn't been forced elsewhere. The Room of Requirement was an obvious solution, but not ideal. The classroom they were using currently was close enough to the Gryffindor common room that they didn't really have to worry about curfew.

Harry's eyes widened as he saw Hermione flipping through her book, far past where they had been working.

"Er…'Mione?" The witch didn't look up, skimming through pages that were nearly at the end of the thick book.

"Mm?"

"What exactly are you doing?" He might not have been doing too poorly with this, but that didn't mean he was interested in skipping to the more advanced lessons. Hermione didn't answer at once, her eyes still darting over the text as she flipped page after page.

"Aha!" she looked up at him triumphantly, apparently having found what she had been searching for. "I thought we might try learning some common phrases this time. It'll be more useful in general conversations. So we can work on that and some new vocabulary." Hermione rolled her eyes when she saw Harry's reluctance. "They're at the back of the book because they're not officially part of one of the lessons, Harry."

"…Right," he said, sitting down beside her. Hermione made a face as she looked through the list.

"What's up?" he asked, craning his neck to see. She rolled her eyes, holding the book out to him.

" 'I love you' is listed here in the common phrases," she said. Harry looked at her, unsure of what the issue was. "I'm not trying to say that it's not common, just that I think it's ridiculous just _how_ commonly it's used. I mean, if everyone actually meant it when they said 'I love you' to someone…" she snorted. "Lavender Brown would have a _lot_ of intense bonds with various people, that's for sure. _Won won_ ," she scoffed under her breath. "Anyway. Shall we get started?"

OoO

They had been practicing for nearly an hour, and curfew was fast approaching. Harry was quite pleased with his progress; although Hermione had memorized the entire list, he had a fair bit of it down himself. He was able to hold a short 'hello, how are you, I like _, do you?' conversation with her without too much difficulty.

Harry had to admit: he was enjoying himself. The set-up of the language wasn't as difficult as he had expected, and he liked the way the words sounded. They were much like the almost-Latin words used for spells in that they had the same sort of magic feel to them. He was slightly tempted to ask Hermione about it, but wasn't really interested in hearing the history behind the language.

"You know, _why_ they made _you_ a prefect, Granger, is beyond me." Harry looked up to see the Slytherin prefect standing in the doorway. "Sneaking off at night with Potter instead of doing your rounds? Tsk tsk."

"Noswaith dda, Malfoy," Hermione said sweetly. "Wyt ti'n siarad Cymraeg?" Harry smirked. The fact that Malfoy wouldn't be able to understand what Hermione had said to him would likely prove to be an irritation, and the fact that she had only greeted him politely, and asked if he spoke Welsh made it that much better.

Mild annoyance flashed over Malfoy's face before he sneered at the two of them. "And the mudblood thinks she's _so_ much better than me now," he rolled his eyes.

"As if she would need to learn another language to think that," Harry retorted. "Why are you here, anyway? Just like checking up on us?"

" _Someone's_ got to make sure the Gryffindors aren't being _complete_ idiots, Potter. Besides, as a prefect, it's my _job _to be doing rounds. Just because you weren't competent enough to warrant the job, I wouldn't have expected you to be so thick as to forget who was."__

Harry scowled at him, more irritated by his arrogance than anything.

"Let's go, Harry," Hermione said as he opened his mouth to reply. "I think the language might be a bit over Malfoy's head." She pulled Harry towards the door, pointedly ignoring his attempts to free his arm from her grasp.

"If that makes you feel better, Granger, then continue with your delusions, by all means," the Slytherin drawled.

"Why don't you join us during the break then, Malfoy? I hear you're staying here. Did your parents forget to invite you home?" Harry asked, stepping in front of the blond as he reached the door.

"Didn't the two of you get invited to the Weasel's hovel this year? Or has he been too interested in shagging the first girl he's noticed to ask?"

Hermione pulled Harry through the door before he had a chance to respond. She kept his arm in a vice until they could no longer hear Malfoy's chuckling.

Harry held back a sigh as they walked away from the grinning Slytherin. This was going to be a _long_ Christmas break.


	3. Y Trydydd - The Third

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The translations for the Welsh are at the end of the chapter.

**Y Trydydd. The Third.**

 

Hermione was off talking to McGonagall about moving forward in classes over the break, and Harry found himself in the library. He supposed he should be taking advantage of the now quite and relatively empty common room, but it almost seemed more comfortable in the library. More constant, in a way. Its atmosphere didn't go from friendly to hostile to overly sexual over the course of a few minutes, nor was it as incredibly loud. Merlin knew he loved his house, but Harry had never really been able to stand just how loud they could get even when nothing was happening. His lips turned up in a small smile as he imaged the librarian's reaction if the Gryffindors were all let loose in her space. Survivors would be unlikely.

He turned the page in his book, trying to refocus his attention. He'd picked up the book weeks ago, but hadn't found the time to sit down and look through it. Now, however, he was finding it difficult to keep his thoughts on the book.

To Harry's chagrin, he couldn't get that damned Slytherin out of his head. He had never really noticed just how attractive Malfoy was. Sure, he'd joked with others frequently about how perfect he always was, and how girls and guys alike were falling all over him, but Harry had never really _looked_ at him.

When he saw that very Slytherin approaching, Harry groaned quietly. Of course, why _wouldn't_ Malfoy be here? He couldn't _possibly_ have better things to do. Although, Harry realized, at least he'd be able to tell Hermione he had practiced his Welsh without completely lying.

"Potter. Wouldn't have expected to find _you_ here. I didn't realize you were even literate." Harry raised his eyes from the page, trying to match Malfoy's cool gaze.

"Do you want something, Malfoy?" He was determined to keep his temper this time. He had realized fairly recently why it was that he so often blew up when Malfoy was concerned: he felt upstaged by the Slytherin's ever-calm demeanour.

"You trying to catch Granger's eye with this?" the blond asked, smirking. He shook his hair out of his eyes, the pale strands catching the grey light from the window. "I'm surprised she's not in here. Let me guess, she's begging some professor to reconsider the less than perfect grade they gave her?"

"Rwyt ti hardd, ond rwyt ti cythruddo." Harry said, rolling his eyes as he refused to let himself blush. It was true, though. Malfoy raised an eyebrow coolly and perched elegantly on the edge of the table without a word. Harry frowned slightly. "Afal." He nearly missed the amused smile that graced the Slytherin's lips before the calm, almost disinterested appearance was back. He regarded Malfoy suspiciously for a moment before dropping his gaze back to his book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Rwyt ti hardd, ond rwyt ti cythruddo._ – You're beautiful, but you're irritating. 
> 
> _Afal_ – apple (No, Harry didn't mean to call him an apple. But that word jumped out at me as I scanned my vocab list for something else. I have had that happen many times, though usually with French. So I'll end up calling something by some weird name unintentionally.)
> 
> Ridiculously short chapter...xD Ah well. I would combine it with the next, but I really can't be bothered to fiddle with it this long after writing it.


	4. Y Bedwaredd - The Fourth

**Y Bedwaredd. The Fourth.**

 

Harry was starting to wonder if the castle was really as big as he had come to think. Or did he really cross paths with Malfoy this often on a regular basis, and just hadn't noticed it until the corridors were no longer filled with students?

He'd certainly seen him more often in the past two days than he was used to. More often than not, as he walked through the castle (most definitely _not_ trying to avoid Hermione and her list of schoolwork-to-be-finished) he would see the Slytherin sauntering past.

Abruptly, Harry found himself colliding with someone else in a tangle of robes. Looking at the blond sprawled on the ground in front of him, Harry sighed. Speak of the devil.

"Merlin, Potter, you have eyes for a reason. Poor as your sight may be, you might want to try _using_ it when you walk around in public," Malfoy said irritably from the floor.

"Maybe _you_ shouldn't whip around corners," Harry muttered, extending his hand without really thinking about it. Malfoy glared up at him, but accepted the hand up.

"So, Potter, what are you so focused on that it stops you from watching where you're going?" Malfoy asked, brushing his robes off. He smirked, his silver eyes glinting as he continued, "Someone on your mind?"

Harry scowled. So what if there had been? It didn't _mean_ anything. It wasn't _his_ fault the bloody Slytherin was everywhere.

"I was on my way to the owlery, actually," he said, trying to keep the defensive tone out of his voice. Not that it _needed_ to be there, anyway. "Why were you running through the halls?" he asked, irritated by the knowing smile on Malfoy's lips.

"It's called walking, Potter. If you hadn't been so busy fantasizing, you would have noticed," he drawled, shaking his hair out of his eyes.

Harry's scowl deepened, and he stepped around Malfoy, continuing (without quite stomping) down the corridor. Just like the bloody Slytherin, always trying to keep the conversation on himself. _Ah, but how could he have known who you were thinking about?_ the Hermione-like voice in his head pointed out. Harry couldn't even deny that he was stomping now, as he tried to ignore both the little voice in his head, and the swooping sensation he'd felt when Malfoy had taken his hand.

OoO

"You might want to move away from that window, Harry. There's usually quite a swarm of wrackspurts there." Harry snapped out of his thoughts, his fingers ceasing their irritated drumming on the cover of his half-closed book. Luna stood next to him, her wide eyes drifting from point to point in the air around him.

"Er, right. Thanks, Luna."

The witch perched on the arm of another chair, regarding him curiously.

"Are you all right, Harry? You look rather unhappy."

Harry shrugged.

"Just thinking. I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I find it's best to talk to someone when I get like that," Luna said. "I talk to Ginny quite often when I have problems."

"Ah, it's no big deal. I've just…got a lot on my mind." It wasn't _really_ a lie.

"Is it a boy?"

"Wh-what?" Harry asked, caught completely off guard.

"Well, you said you had a lot on your mind. And you look a lot like Ginny does when she's talking to me about you. But you've never seemed very interested in girls, at least from my view. I've mentioned it to Ginny, but she doesn't really believe me."

"I – well-" _I went out with Cho last year!_ a part of him protested. _And just look at how that turned out_ the Hermione-voice said. He supposed it didn't really matter, overall, not that part of it. But it was _Draco Malfoy_ that he was thinking about like that.

Luna watched him somewhat absently for a while, but eventually spoke again. "I really should be going; I feed the thestrals about this time, and they'll wonder where I've gone." She stood, giving him one of her dreamy smiles. "If you ever want to talk about him, feel free to find me. I don't mind." With that, she walked off, humming cheerily to herself, leaving Harry alone in his corner of the library, waging a mental war with himself.


	5. Y Pumed - The Fifth

**Y Pumed. The Fifth.**

 

Harry sat at the window of the common room, scratching little pictures into the frost as he listened to Hermione. She was going over an idea she'd had for making tests for themselves, to check their progress with the language. He was actually quite pleased with how he had been doing with the language. To his surprise, he seemed to be at the same level as Hermione, and they managed small conversations in their practice, something they'd just finished with for the day.

"Do you want to go down to Hagrid's?" she asked, setting down her quill. Harry frowned as his breath fogged the glass.

"Mae'n rhy oer," he replied, his brain not really switching back from the Welsh. The witch laughed, rising.

"All right. I'm going to the library, then." Harry nodded, watching the snow fall outside.

He wanted to talk to someone. About Malfoy. Because that damn Slytherin wouldn't get out of his mind.

A part of him felt slightly guilty for not confiding in Hermione about it. They'd been friends for nearly six years now, after all. But it wasn't really something he wanted to talk to Hermione about. The idea of telling her about this seemed… weird, even if she'd probably know exactly what to say. It was like… suddenly going to McGonagall to talk about what happened with Sirius. Yes. About that weird.

"Dammit, Ron," he sighed in frustration. If the redhead weren't such a thick idiot, Harry could talk to _him_ about it. But unless Ron had suddenly been replaced by some sort of doppelganger while at the Burrow, that option was out. Not to mention the fact that he needed to talk _now_ , not after the break.

Then there was Luna…. To Harry's surprise, she seemed to be the best option. She already seemed completely accepting of the idea in general, though he doubted if anything would change if Malfoy were brought into it. Maybe it was just that itself that made him want to talk to her about it….

A figure suddenly came into view in the grounds outside. Luna was wading through the thigh-deep snow, the multi-coloured hat she wore trailing its long tip behind her. Harry felt a sudden urge to grab a cloak and mittens and go after her. It really _was_ cold, though….

Not five minutes later, Harry found himself bundled into his winter things, melting a path through the snow as he tried to catch up to the eccentric witch ahead of him.

"Hey, Luna…" The witch turned to him, smiling.

"Good afternoon," she said happily.

Now that he was here, talking to her, Harry felt far less sure about it. It was _Luna Lovegood_. And, really, he hardly knew her…

"I…" he was really starting to regret this now. He began to formulate an excuse for coming out to see her.

"Have you spoken to him?" Well, that had rather made up his mind for him. Harry supposed he couldn't really expect anything different when it came to Luna, though.

"I – well, no. Not really," Harry admitted, giving in. "I can't."

"Hm…Maybe you should," Luna suggested, beginning to search through her bag. "Unless you think he would set a flock of Zipping Arkashes on you. But I don't think _he_ has any. His father might, though. Daddy heard something about him obtaining them from the Ministry. The Minister's undersecretary is receiving shipments of them from Peru," she explained, pulling some sort of radish from her bag. "Dirigible Plum?"

"Er, no, thanks. _Who's_ father?" Harry asked, going completely against his better judgement.

"Draco Malfoy's." Luna seemed to feel that this was the clearest thing in the world, and Harry felt his heart drop. If Luna knew, then…did Malfoy? Surely not, or the Slytherin would have jumped at the chance to use it against him. Though, it _could_ have just been a lucky guess on Luna's part…

"How did you…?"

Luna smiled at him. "Well, you _have_ been following him around quite a lot during the break. Or maybe he's following you…" she said, looking thoughtful. "Hm…either way, though, every time you two are talking, this starts to tingle." Luna raised her arm, pulling her sleeve back to reveal an oddly shaped stone set into a metal bracelet. "It's used to detect Amoravies. They're much like wrackspurts, except they only really appear around people who have romantic feelings for each other."

"Er…Right…" Harry mentally filed the name with the other peculiar creatures that tended to come up in conversations with Luna.

"It's getting rather cold. Would you mind terribly if I headed back to the castle?"

Harry stepped hurriedly to the side, using his wand to widen the path he'd melted. "No, 'course not. I'll head back in, too."

"So, do you think you'll talk to him?" Luna asked as they reached the castle. Harry shook his head.  
"I can't. Mal – he hates me. He'd never let me live it down." Harry caught himself just in time; he could never tell when Malfoy would pop up when he was in the castle, and he certainly didn't want him figuring out this conversation.

"Oh, you never know. People can surprise you." Harry allowed himself a small smile. They certainly could. Luna was walking proof of that.

"Well, Harry, it was nice talking to you. Feel free to come and find me again, if you'd like." With a dreamy smile and a little wave, Luna turned off down a corridor, humming cheerily to herself as she walked.

With a soft laugh, Harry shook his head and continued back to the Gryffindor common room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Mae'n rhy oer._ It's too cold.


	6. Y Chweched - The Sixth

**Y Chweched. The Sixth.**

Three days until break was over. Three days until he had a distraction from the constant thoughts in his head. Three days before he lost the chance to have a relatively private conversation with the subject of said thoughts.

It was this that had caused him to make a beeline for Luna when he saw her sitting in the Great Hall on her own, sketching some peculiar fruit-like object in front of her. It was also this that had made him give up completely and begin to explain his predicament to her, growing more red-faced with every sentence.

It took him a surprisingly long time to get it all out, he thought, considering the problem was one person. Then again, if Draco Malfoy were ever classified as simple, well…

Harry sighed in frustration, cutting himself off. Luna regarded him curiously as he ran his hands through his messy hair.

"I'm just being a coward, aren't I? I should just say something. But because it's Draco _bloody_ Malfoy, and I'm Harry _bloody_ Potter, it's– oh, Merlin, why now?" Luna followed his gaze towards the far end of the hall, where the very person in question had just appeared. And why, _why_ was he walking over? Surely the Slytherin Prince had better things to do?

And now Luna was watching him with a vague interest that made Harry feel like she was evaluating something about him.

"Luna, just-" Harry cut himself off, unsure of how to say what he wanted without sounding like he didn't trust her. Luna turned to him, smiling.

"Oh, don't worry, Harry. I won't tell him a thing. Will you?"

The blond reached their table before Harry had a chance to reply, although a part of Harry was a little relieved by this.

"So this is who you spend your time with, Potter? Loony Lovegood?"

Luna looked over at the Slytherin; her head tilted to the side in a way that made her look even more mad than usual. "Why, hello, Draco," she said dreamily. He regarded her rather scornfully for a moment before turning his attention to Harry, clearly waiting for some sort of retort to the (somewhat minor) insult.

"Rwy'n dy garu di," he said, trying to inject some malice into his voice. It was somewhat difficult, however, given that he was _actually saying_ 'I love you' to Draco's (because Malfoy really wouldn't do, now) face, and proving his placement in Gryffindor oh so correct. Hermione would be furious with him for using the phrase so casually.

Luna looked at him curiously, and Harry's stomach dropped. _Tell me she doesn't know Welsh_ , he thought desperately. Because being Luna, she wouldn't hesitate to make some sort of comment that would make it clear it wasn't an insult, regardless of their agreement not to let Draco on to Harry's feelings. It wouldn't be on purpose. It was just who Luna was.

"Why, Harry, I didn't know you could speak Alaura." Mentally, Harry sighed in relief. Luna _was_ being Luna. Just not in the uncomfortably truthful way that she sometimes was.

"What?" He arched a brow at Draco's question, but Luna turned to him, her already large eyes widening as she began to explain.

"Alaura. It's the ancient language of the Aures, a sub-race of the air elementals. They're invisible to the naked eye. Usually they choose a human that they like, and follow them around. They're attributed to lucky people quite often, especially those who are lucky in games, or anything that involves magic, really. It's because they can affect the air around them, you see." Luna turned to Harry again. "It's really quite amazing that you've learned to speak with yours. I'm not really that surprised you have one, though, considering who you are. It would explain how You-Know-Who's killing curse didn't affect you as a baby. And you're generally quite lucky, aren't you?" Harry opened his mouth, but really had no clue what to say. Not that that was uncommon with Luna. Fortunately, she continued before he could say anything. "Would you be willing to do another interview for the Quibbler? I'm sure Daddy would love to learn more about the Aures."

"Er…"

"I should go tell him about this! I'll tell you what he says later, all right?" without waiting for an answer, Luna smiled brightly and skipped off.

Harry watched Luna leave, feeling mildly uncomfortable at being alone with the Slytherin. He glanced at Draco, just about to leave, until-

"You know, Potter, there are _quite_ a few tales – in the Wizarding and the muggle world, I'm sure – in which the hero's downfall comes from the unexpected knowledge of his enemy. And such information is frequently very easy to come across. It's merely the hero's blind march forwards that causes him to miss this." The blond sauntered forward, coming to a halt barely a foot from Harry.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Care to tell me about how the hero always fails, as well?"

"Well, they don't fail. Eventually they get there in the end. It's often wondered, though, if it isn't their enemy's choice, though. If the goal they reach isn't the enemy's as well."

"Is there a point to this, Malfoy?" Harry asked, torn between annoyed and intrigued. Draco wasn't one to waste words, regardless of how it seemed to others. And he certainly wouldn't be wasting them on _him_.

Draco raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. "Your comments have been quite bold, you know. Especially just now. Anyone could have understood you." Harry didn't like the look in the Slytherin's eyes. And what did he mean by 'anyone'? He and Luna were the only one's who had heard him...

"And I suppose you're going to tell me you speak Welsh, now?" Harry asked, trying to mask his worry. There was no way...

The blond smirked. "Ydw, yr wyf yn ei wneud mewn gwirionedd. Ers i mi oedd dau, mewn gwirionedd. Dylech 'n sylweddol i weithio ar eich ynganiad, er. Nid ydych yn ymestyn eich llafariaid yn ddigon. Heblaw am hynny, yr ydych yn ei siarad yn eithaf da."

Harry's heart dropped; he might not have completely understood what Malfoy had said, but it was pretty obvious what the answer was.

"So you understood my insults. Big deal." Not that playing dumb would help, but he would rather have Draco thinking he had been _trying_ for insults. Merlin knew what the Slytherin would do if he knew Harry had been honestly voicing his feelings.

Draco arched a brow, stepping forward. "I think we both know those weren't insults," he said silkily. Without really thinking, Harry let his Gryffindor genes take control, taking a step towards Draco and almost closing the small gap between them. No sense in backing out of his attempted bluff now.

"I don't know what you think you heard, Mal-" Harry was cut off as the Slytherin's lips crashed down on his, a hand tangling in his messy hair.

He stood shocked for a moment before throwing what he thought was likely his last remaining ounce of common sense out the window as he placed his hands on Draco's hips, pulling him closer.

Draco grinned, resting his forehead on Harry's. "Now, was that _really_ that difficult?"

"Yes," Harry replied stubbornly, his heart still racing. He was having difficulty really processing what had just happened. Because after agonizing over all this, was it _really_ this easy?

The Slytherin chuckled, brushing their lips together again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ydw, yr wyf yn ei wneud mewn gwirionedd. Ers i mi oedd dau, mewn gwirionedd. Dylech 'n sylweddol i weithio ar eich ynganiad, er. Nid ydych yn ymestyn eich llafariaid yn ddigon. Heblaw am hynny, yr ydych yn ei siarad yn eithaf da._ Yes, I actually do. Since I was two, actually. You should really work on your pronunciation, though. You do not stretch your vowels sufficiently. Other than that, you speak it quite well.
> 
> Much thanks to TheMozzyOne on ff.net for the Welsh, there.


	7. Y Seithfed - The Seventh

Draco and Harry sat in the Great Hall, enjoying its last day of being empty before the student population returned. The Gryffindor had been somewhat reluctant at first, not wanting to cause a stir if someone came in. After all, the sight of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy _cuddling_ wasn't exactly something seen every day. The combination of Draco's kisses and his logic finally returning wore him down fairly quickly though. The entire school would probably find out tomorrow, anyway, and he really did want to, if he was honest with himself.

"So, how'd you get away from Granger?"

"What do you mean, 'get away' from her?"

"She's not holding you hostage until you're both fluent in Welsh?"

"…No?"

"I'm surprised she gave up so easily. Doesn't seem like her."

"Well, we're still going to work on it this evening, but I'm actually doing really well with it!" Draco coughed suddenly at that, and Harry pulled himself from the Slytherin's arms, regarding him suspiciously.

"You remember that day in the library?" Draco asked, grinning. Harry raised an eyebrow, not sure where this was going, or where it had come from, for that matter.

"Ye-e-es," he replied slowly. "You came in for no apparent reason and started bothering me while I was trying to work."

The Slytherin was grinning even more broadly now. "And you thought you'd be all smart and speak Welsh..." he prompted.

"Yeah, and we both know that you understood everything, now..." Harry said warily, not understanding what he found so funny.

"You called me an apple," he said as he started to, well, there was really no other word for it – he started to giggle.

"I – what?" Harry asked, caught completely off guard, not the least by Draco's somewhat odd behaviour.

"I think you meant to insult me, but you called me 'apple' instead," he said once he had collected himself somewhat.

Harry snorted. "Wow. I thought you looked like you were about to start laughing..."

"Well, when someone calls you 'apple' and they look and sound like they're trying to insult you..." he shook his head, still laughing.

"Shut up, apple."

OoO

Winter break was over, and Hogwarts was once again filled with the loud presence of its students. Breakfast on the first day back saw that the Gryffindor table was (as per usual) the loudest of the lot, but Harry found himself unbothered by it, for once.

"Oi, lover boy!"

Harry snorted, raising an eyebrow as he turned to the voice, not missing Ron's startled look as he recognized the speaker. Of course Draco wasn't going to miss an excuse to put on a show.

"Of _all_ the names you could have chosen, _that_ was the one you picked?"

Ron twisted around, to look at the Slytherin standing next to them. "Pathetic excuse for an insult, Malfoy. What, too hard to think of anything better?" he asked scathingly.

"I could think up better insults than you in my sleep, Weasley," Draco replied lazily, ignoring Harry's 'leave it alone' look. "And you're one to talk," he continued, looking at Harry. "At least I'm not calling you 'tomato', or 'orange'."

"That was an accident!" Harry protested. "You know full well I meant to insult you." Fully absorbed in the blond standing in front of him, Harry missed the bewildered looks of the Gryffindors around him.

Seamus broke the shocked silence around them, almost shouting, "What the hell do you want, Malfoy?"

Draco raised an eyebrow, obviously amused. "Well, I'm not sure how comfortable I am leaving you alone over here. " he said playfully, eyeing the other Gryffindors. "Not to mention that your state of dress is atrocious."

"No one's going to steal me," Harry replied, rolling his eyes and deciding to ignore the second comment. He wouldn't get anywhere in that kind of an argument, anyway.

Draco reached out, fixing Harry's loosely worn tie. "They'd better not," he growled, tugging the tie to pull Harry into a kiss.

The loud clatter of metal on stone broke them apart. Ron's goblet was rolling on the floor, a large pool of pumpkin juice creeping steadily towards their feet. Draco took a small step back from it, raising an eyebrow at the redhead.

"Manners, Weasley. It's impolite to stare."

Ron opened his mouth, but said nothing. Harry looked over at Hermione, hoping that Ron wouldn't jump Draco the second he turned away. The witch looked mildly surprised, though the disgust and shock present on Ron's face certainly didn't have a place with her. She looked somewhat amused, in fact.

Ignoring the looks he could see on the other Gryffindors' faces, Harry turned back to Draco.

"Right. I'll, er, I'll see you after classes, then?"

The blond smirked. "You'd better." He leaned in to brush his lips against Harry's before sauntering away. Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to his breakfast. Loud whispers broke out along the tables, and he sighed. This was going to be a _very_ long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mm, well, that's that. Perhaps not my _best_ work, but it's my first multi-chapter fic finished, so... xD


End file.
